


When the Cold of Winter Comes

by SEABlRD



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, camping (kind of), like a budding relationship. level 1 relationship with no looms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEABlRD/pseuds/SEABlRD
Summary: From Arcane-Renegade on Tumblr: liontrust where Khadgar gets cold really easily, so one day he loses his cloak (got hacked through by an orc maybe?) and starts shivering when night falls. Cue Lothar noticing and deciding to do something about it. -----How did he get to this point? He’d been a good responsible mage, mostly, and he saved all of Azeroth from the demon Sargeras, so why must he suffer this way?





	

How did he get to this point? He’d been a good responsible mage, mostly, and he saved all of Azeroth from the demon Sargeras, so why must he suffer this way?

It was in the middle of the night, the orcs took the patrol by surprise. The Stormwind soldiers fought hard and managed to beat back their opponent, but not without some losses. Most of the losses being material possessions, of course, like tents and supply crates. Some horses were broken loose and roaming around in the forest, but otherwise not much else is missing.

Except Khadgar’s cloak. Somehow, an orc managed to get it caught on it’s armor and, to avoid being dragged around by his neck, Khadgar unclasped it. Now it’s probably halfway to the Black Morass to serve as a napkin for some dirty orc eating spiders and rats and whatever disgusting things orcs eat.

He’s fine with it, of course. It’s just a cloak, it has no significant meaning to him. But the night grows cold, colder than he anticipated, and he quickly regrets losing the garment. He has a small arcane fire going in his palms, which he maintains and keeps close to his body for warmth. Most of the other men are asleep by now, except the watch, and Khadgar doesn’t want to wake them up for a blanket. He’ll live.

His shivering rustles the material of his tent, separate from the other soldiers. He would have been put in a tent with another man, had he not been prone to casting spells in his sleep. The last time he shared a tent with someone on a patrol, they woke up as a sheep. So, his own tent it is, and he must suffer the cold alone it seems. 

While most of the soldiers are asleep, there is one who isn’t. Lothar lays awake on his bedroll listening to the noisy shivering coming from the tent beside his. He glares at the roof of his own tent, hoping that Khadgar falls asleep before Lothar has to knock him out.

After an hour of nonstop shaking and rustling, he can’t take it. The commander heaves himself up reluctantly and crawls out of his tent, his own blanket in hand. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s losing sleep when he doesn’t need to. He shuffles into Khadgar’s tent, finding the mage on the far end trying to cover himself with the one blanket he has and the end of his bedroll. Not a bad idea, but it just doesn’t cover him enough to block out the cold.

“Bookworm, are you done?!” Lothar whisper-yells. Khadgar jumps in surprise and looks to him, his shivering intensifying.

“So- sorry, commander,” he says. “It’s just- the orcs, my cloak-!”

“I know what happened. Move over.” Lothar pushes him to once side and lays the bedroll back down. He straightens Khadgar’s blanket over it and drapes the blanket from his tent over it. Lothar’s blanket is much thicker than Khadgar’s, he notices, but that would make sense given he’s the commander. The soldiers probably picked it specifically for him, as kind as they are.

Lothar lies down on the bedroll and scoots under the blankets. He pats the space beside him and looks at Khadgar expectantly.

“What are you d- doing?” Khadgar whispers, teeth chattering. “I’m not getting in there.”

“Suit yourself.” Lothar says, shrugging and rolling onto his side, away from the mage. “Freeze all night for all I care, just. Please do it quietly.”

The tent goes silent and, for a moment, Lothar is almost sure that Khadgar won’t join him, but after a good ten minutes of shivering in silence the mage decides to lift the blankets and crawl underneath them as well.

Khadgar stays as far as he can from the commander, drawing the two blankets over himself while being mindful of leaving enough for the other man. The warmth slowly seeps into his skin and his shivering stops, his breathing deepens.

He ends up scooting closer to Lothar, pressing against him back to back, and they share the temperature of their bodies through their clothing. Lothar, still awake, nudges the mage with his elbow gently in acknowledgement, but says nothing.

And if they wake up tomorrow morning in each other’s arms, well. They won’t say anything then, either.


End file.
